


Lacey Potter and The Philosopher's Stone

by ElizaLane



Series: Lacey Potter's Reincarnation [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/F, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Hogwarts, Multi, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27314374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaLane/pseuds/ElizaLane
Summary: Lacey Potter's earliest memory wasn't from a life as Lacey Potter. That memory doesn't matter much, but what does matter about that life was that she had been an avid fan of the Harry Potter books. Armed with that knowledge, Lacey begins her new life and tries to make her time at Hogwarts more bearable than Harry's had been. And hey, if that means killing the basement snake a year early, then that's what it means.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter & Lily Moon, Harry Potter & Lisa Turpin, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter
Series: Lacey Potter's Reincarnation [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994194
Comments: 22
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter One

Lacey Potter’s first memory wasn’t of her current life. It was from a life where she was an American, for one, and she had been seventeen when that life ended and her new life began. That memory doesn’t matter. What does matter is that she had read the Harry Potter book nigh religiously. Lacey’s first memory from her new life was pretty vague, but she could remember her new mum and dad laughing. She remembered their faces, albeit distantly, and she remembered their good friends, and most unfortunately she remembered their screams and a high, cold voice saying “Step aside, girl,” and then “ _Avada kedavra_ ,” and then green light. She remembered her godfather giving her to a giant and then she couldn’t keep her tiny, baby eyes open.

The next coherent memory she had was weeding Aunt Petunia's back flower bed with far more patience than any five-year-old should have and contemplating running away. Lacey was annoyed that her mind kept wandering to Mrs. Figg’s cats and how much she wanted to pet them, but alas. She was both seventeen and five, and her attention span was miserable, and she had no means of running away. Of course, the five-year-old thought process said that she could do it and--ooh, kitty. Seventeen-year-old thought process was self-aware enough to recognise that running away now would only end in disaster. 

A very long five and a half years later, Lacey was looking out for her Hogwarts letter any day. Lacey cursed her poor memory as she struggled to remember if it came before Dudley’s birthday. 

Lacey woke up on Dudley’s eleventh birthday to Aunt Petunia rapping sharply on her cupboard door. 

“Up! Get up! Now!”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Lacey yawned, rolling off of her tiny cot and sliding her glasses on. She dressed quickly and hurried to the kitchen. The table was practically missing underneath all of the presents. Lacey took over the bacon-frying from Aunt Petunia. 

Lacey was small and scrawny for her age, with wild, choppy black hair and green eyes. Lacey’s glasses were held together by scotch tape from all the times Dudley had broken them. 

Lacey put the plates of bacon and eggs on the table and returned to her own plate in the kitchen. 

“Thirty-six,” said Dudley, and Lacey sighed quietly. “That’s two less than last year.”

“Darling, you haven’t counted Aunt Marge’s present, see, it’s here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy.”

“All right, thirty-seven then,” said Dudley. 

Aunt Petunia must have sensed the potential tantrum from her son, because she said quickly, “And we’ll buy you another two presents while we’re out today. How’s that, popkin? _Two_ more presents. Is that alright?”

There was a moment of silence from the other room. Finally Dudley said slowly, “So I’ll have thirty… thirty…”

“Thirty-nine, sweetums,” said Aunt Petunia.

“Oh.” Lacey heard Dudley sit down heavily, and then the crinkling of wrapping paper. “All right then.”

Uncle Vernon chuckled.

“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, ust like his father. ‘Atta boy, Dudley!”

The telephone rang and Aunt Petunia hurried to answer it. 

In the time it took her to finish with the telephone, Dudley had opened a racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new video games, and a gold wristwatch. She returned, looking both angry and worried. Lacey took the plates from the table and disappeared to the kitchen. 

“Bad news, Vernon,” Aunt Petunia said. “Mrs. Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take the girl. Now what?”

“We could phone Marge,” Uncle Vernon suggested. 

Don’t be silly, Vernon, she hates the girl.” 

“What about what’s-her-name, your friend -- Yvonne?”

“On vacation in Majorca,” snapped Aunt Petunia. 

“Well, we can’t leave him here,” retorted Uncle Vernon. 

“I suppose we could take her to the zoo,” said Aunt Petunia slowly, “... and leave her in the car…”

“That car’s new, she’s not sitting in it alone…”

Dudley began to cry very loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying -- it had been years since he’d really cried -- but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. 

“Dinky Diddydums, don’t cry, Mummy won’t let her ruin your special day!” she cried, filing her arms around him. 

“I … don’t… want… her...t-to come!” Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. “She always sp-spoils everything!” Lacey stayed in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and hoping that she would be allowed to stay. 

Just then, the doorbell rang -- “Oh, good Lord, they’re here! Said Aunt Petunia frantically -- and a moment later, Dudley’s best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers’s rat-like appearance had always reminded Lacey of Peter Pettigrew in the canon. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. 

Half an hour later, Lacey, who couldn’t believe her poor luck, was in the back of the Dursley’s car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in her life. Her aunt and uncle hadn’t been able to think of anything else to do with her, but before they’d left, Uncle Vernon had taken Lacey aside. 

“I’m warning you,” he had said, putting his large purple right up close to Lacey’s, “I’m warning you now, girl -- any funny business, anything at all -- and you’ll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas.” 

“I’m not going to do anything,” Lacey protested, “honestly…”

But Uncle Vernon didn’t believe her. No one ever did. 

The problem was, strange things often happened around Lacey and while she knew they were usually magic, the Dursley’s also knew that. Lacey had experienced the iconic hair-growing-back-overnight and Apparition to the top of the school, but there were other, less significant moments -- people forgetting why they were chasing her or walking right past her. 

But today, nothing would go wrong. Lacey wouldn't talk to any snakes. There would be no getting in trouble today. 

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Lacey, thou council, Lacey, the bank, and Lacey were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning it was motorcycles. 

“... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums,” he said, as a motorcycle overtook them. 

_Sirius’s got a motorcycle_ , Lacey thought idly. _I wonder if he could ride it out here to mess with the Dursleys_.

It was a very sunny Saturday afternoon and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady had asked Lacey what she wanted before they could hurry her away, they bought her a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn’t bad either, Lacey thought, liking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head. 

Lacey had the best morning she’d had in a long time. She was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that if Piers and Dudley, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite pastime of hitting her. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn’t have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Lacey was allowed to finish the first. After lunch they went to the reptile house and Lacey didn’t talk to any snakes (what kind of idiot _talks to snakes_ in a zoo). Even when the snake tried to communicate by gesturing with its head, Lacey didn’t talk to the snake. 

There was no incident and no tea with the zoo director. They went back to Privet Drive and Lacey was sent to her cupboard for the sake of disappearing. At last, Lacey’s letter to Hogwarts was within view. 

  
  


Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were watching her suspiciously. After all, Lacey had done a fairly good job maintaining the appearance of an obedient, bland, if not resigned, child. Now, though, she was getting up earlier that usual and offering to get the mail daily. She had to offer to do other chores as well so that she wouldn’t seem too off, but it was clear that there was an anxious tension about her. 

Luckily, the awaited day arrived. She crouched by the door one Monday morning to pick up a heavy, parchment envelope, addressed to _Miss L. Potter, Number 4, Privet Drive, The Cupboard under the stairs_. After a moment’s hesitation, she slid it under the other mail and carried the stack to Uncle Vernon at the table. 

Lacey’s choice was well worth it. The way that Uncle Vernon sputtered and paled was hilarious, but Lacey managed to keep a straight face. 

“What is it?” Dudley asked, interest piqued. 

“Nothing. Go to your rooms, both of you!” Uncle Vernon roared, tea dripping from his face.

Lacey followed Dudley out of the room, but carried on to her cupboard rather than tried to listen in. “It’s probably just a bill,” she lied. Her cousin ignored her, crouching at the door. Typical.

In the following days, letters continued to arrive every day. Lacey was moved up to Dudley’s second bedroom, where she hunted for the loose floorboard that Harry had mentioned in the third book. 

When she was finally hassled into the car for the fated trip to the pathetic little island, Lacey allowed herself to get properly excited for a decent birthday for the first time in ten years. 

As she lay on the ground on the 30th of July, she contemplated asking Hagrid if she could get Muggle notebooks and pens instead of parchment and quill ( _Do they want us to suffer?_ Lacey asked herself silently). Actually, Lacey decided, she could make a better day out of it. 

She could bat her eyelashes and ask to buy some clothes for herself, and then that could lead to a haircut. Her hair was choppier than she liked, anyway. Then she would go to a school supply store and buy enough pens to sell to her classmates. 

Lost in thought about her best birthday plans, Lacey stopped tracking the time on Dudley’s watch and the first second of her eleventh birthday. 

BANG! Lacey jerked up, whipping her head around to peer through the darkness at the door. Hagrid was just on the other side! Uncle Vernon came roaring down the stairs, gun pointed at the door. For a split second Lacey contemplated whether that would work on a giant, but the door swinging open put a quick stop to that line of thought.

Hagrid was massive. J.K. really didn’t emphasize that enough. Lacey wasn’t nearly tall enough to reach Hagrid’s elbow with her head, even on her toes. His hair puffier than the movies had depicted, and Lacey struggled to see his eyes as he tied the rifle into a knot. She panicked for two seconds when he turned on her, then his face broke out into a massive smile.

“Lacey!” He rumbled joyously. 

“Er, yeah. That’s me,” Lacey replied. She pushed her hair out of her face and met his dark, beady eyes. 

“Yeh look just like yer dad, you know,” he said, “but yeh’ve got yer mum’s eyes.”

Lacey readied herself for comments like that for the rest of her life before replying. “I look like a boy?” Lacey sniffled. Hagrid’s eyes widened and he tried to calm her. She wasn’t really sure why she was crying, but she supposed that puberty 2 (the electric bungaloo) was going to start earlier than planned. Or maybe she was just overwhelmed. And tired. Yeah, that sounded about right.

The rest of the early morning continued as it did in the books, until Lacey and Hagrid boarded the train. 

“Hagrid, is it okay if we go to, er, regular London and get some clothes for me after we finish school shopping?” Unfortunately for Lacey, being a girl didn’t mean that she could escape Dudley’s hand-me-downs, and the only skirts that she had were from school uniforms. 

“I suppose so,” Hagrid replied curiously. He started to ask another question before remembering how quick to tears Lacey was earlier and closing his mouth. No batting eyelashes, score!

  
  


When they entered the Leaky Cauldron, Tom the barkeeper reached for a glass and called out, “The usual, Hagrid?”

“Can’t, Tom, I’m on Hogwarts business,” said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Lacey’s shoulder and making her knees buckle.

“Good Lord,” said the bartender, peering at Lacey, “is this -- can this be -- ?” 

The Leaky Cauldron had gone completely, impressively still and silent, just like in the books. Had they been waiting for or expecting this? Did business at the Leaky Cauldron spike this particular summer, Lacey pondered.

“Bless my soul,” whispered the old bartender, “Lacey Potter… what an honor.”

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed towards Lacey and seized her hand, tears in hs eyes.

“Welcome back, Miss Potter, welcome back.”

Lacey hesitated. “How do you know that _I’m_ Lacey Potter? Were you expecting me?” She looked up at Hagrid. “Is this what it’s going to be like for the rest of my life?”

Hagrid laughed, and apparently that meant that it was okay for everyone in the bar to swarm an eleven-year-old. 

A gobsmacking amount of people rushed forward, shaking hands and introducing themselves until Lacey had no clue who anyone was. Names went in one ear and out the other. Her hand hurt and people kept getting back in line to shake her hand, until she said, as loudly as she could, “I really need to go get my books.” 

Lacey lucked out and said this before Quirrell could make his way to her, and Hagrid herded her out the door. She memorized the pattern for the bricks, and then was face-to-face with Wizarding London. As Lacey followed Hagrid down the street, she kept turning her head to stare at things in shops. Cauldrons, brooms, animals, and robes, all in any color or fashion or material she could imagine, even with her seventeen bonus years of experience. 

At the end of the street, they stopped at a large white building. Lacey ignored the warning, surmising that it wouldn’t matter unless the goblins wanted her to recite it inside, and followed Hagrid into the building. 

Hagrid spoke to the goblins and Lacey gazed in wonder at all of the internal architecture. The LEGO Harry Potter games did the building dirty, and so did the movies.

The cart ride down to Lacey’s vault was awful, and Lacey gathered up as much as she was allowed to take. Above ground, Lacey converted about half of her allowance into Muggle money. English Muggle money. Lacey internally thanked whatever wizard god that there was for the fact that she had learned how to use it.

Hagrid had gotten the stone, but Lacey hadn’t asked any questions. She had, however, begun saying that she liked cats, in a hopeful effort to get a cat instead of an owl. 

  
  


Lacey began her shopping by stepping into Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, where she was herded to the fitting area. 

“Hello,” a very young Draco Malfoy said, “Hogwarts, too?”

“Yes,” said Lacey, giving him a nervous smile. 

“My father’s next door buying my books and Mother’s up the street looking at wands,” drawled Malfoy. “Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully Father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.”

“What’s the difference between a racing broom and a Quidditch broom?” Lacey asked. “Is there a difference at all?”

Malfoy paused, giving Lacey a second glance. He took in her pleated skirt and dark blue blouse. 

“I don’t suppose that there is one,” he admitted. “Don’t you have a broom?”

“No,” Lacey replied, “I live in a more suburban area. The chance of being spotted by Muggles is too big.”

“So you don’t play Quidditch at all?”

“No. I’d rather not have to dodge a bludger. Do you?” 

“Yes, I do -- Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my House, and I must say I agree.” Malfoy went on, “Know what House you’ll be in yet?”

“You can’t know until you’re Sorted, but I’d like to be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin” Lacey replied, glad for an objectively mundane topic. “Do you have a preference?”

“I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been -- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d use it to my advantage. No one would suspect a Hufflepuff -- but I guess that just meant I’m more likely to be a Slytherin. But I’d like to have some friends in Hufflepuff. I hear that they’re unendingly loyal.” Lacey paused. “I think that being so loyal to your family might make you a bit of a Hufflepuff. That’s a compliment, by the way.” 

“I suppose,” Malfoy sneered a bit, but looked thoughtful, before exclaiming, “I say, look at that man!”

Hagrid stood outside the front window, grinning at Lacey and pointing at two large ice cream cones to show he couldn’t come in. 

“That’s Hagrid,” said Lacey. “He works at Hogwarts.”

“Oh,” said Malfoy, “I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?”

“I mean, if you look at it from a certain view. He’s the gamekeeper, which means that he’s more of a guardian.”

“Well, I heard he’s a sort of _savage_ \-- lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed.”

“I suppose that doing magic drunk would make anyone more susceptible to setting fire to something. And he’s still alive, so that’s got to say something for his intelligence.” Lacey said cooly. 

“Why is he with you?” Malfoy asked, looking very much like he was opposed to Lacey’s use of logic. “Where are your parents?”  
“They’re in the graveyard in Godric’s Hollow. They’ve been there for nearly ten years.”

“Why?” 

“Because they’re dead. That’s a very rude sort of question to ask, you know.”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, slightly sheepish. “So they were _our_ kind, then?”

“They were magical, yeah. They died protecting me from You-Know-Who.” Lacey said, not making eye contact. 

“I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old Wizarding families. What’s your surname, by the way?”

Before Lacey could reply, Madame Malkin said, “That’s you done, dear.” 

Lacey paused in front of Malfoy. “I’m Lacey,” she said. “Potter. I’ll see you at Hogwarts.”

Lacey left the shop while Malfoy and Madame Malkin’s assistants gaped behind her. 

Lacey was quiet as she ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought her (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).

“What’s up?” said Hagrid.

“I’m thinking about a pet. I’m personally really fond of cats. Do wizards really bond with their familiars? Is there a difference between magic cats and regular cats?” 

“There’s some bit o’ difference, but i”m not sure what it is,” Hagrid admitted. 

Lacey and Hagrid bought her books in Flourish and Blotts, where the shelves really were stack from floor to ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of what Lacey assumed were runes, and a few books with nothing in them at all. Lacey selected a few books that weren’t on her list for her own reading and everything that was on her list. 

Lacey never felt the urge to buy a solid gold cauldron (Snape would hate her enough as it were), but she did allow herself the best cauldron in the shop, in hopes of never having to re-purchase anything. The Apothecary was fascinating, but in a sort of disgusting way. 

When they stepped outside, Lacey started up the street to Ollivander’s as Hagrid checked her list. 

“Yeh haven’t got a pet yet,” he said, frowning. “Tell yeh what, Lacey, I’ll buy you a cat for yer birthday if yeh really want one.”  
Lacey spun around. “I really do! They’re so sweet.”

Twenty minutes later, Lacey held a wicker basket with a fluffy orange cat inside of it, that the shopkeeper had said was about one-sixteenth mountain lion. Lacey had promptly named the cat Aslan, while thanking Hagrid profusely. 

“Don’ mention it,” said Hagrid gruffly. “Don’ expect you’ve had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivander’s left now -- only place fer wands, Ollivander’s, and yeh gotta have the best wand.”

The wand… Lacey had been looking forward to properly feeling magic in action. 

Stepping into the narrow, shabby shop, a tinkling bell rang from somewhere inside its depths. Hagrid sat down in the solitary chair. Little boxes were stacked all the way to the ceiling, and the room emanated with nearly tangible magic.

“Good afternoon,” said a soft voice. Lacey jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off of the chair. 

An oldman was standing before them, his wide pale eyes shining like a cat’s in the darkness. 

“Hello,” Lacey said excitedly.

“Ah yes,” said Ollivander. “Yes, yes.I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Lacey Potter.” It wasn’t a question. “You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, mad of willow. Nice wand for charm work.” 

“Her _first_ wand? Did she need another?” Lacey asked as Ollivander moved closer to her. He should blink. _Unless he’s training for fighting weeping angels,_ Lacey thought, then struggled to keep from smiling. 

“It broke. In a scuffle with a few Death Eaters, I believe. You father, on the other hand only ever had one. He favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it -- it’s the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.” 

Ollivander touched the scar on Lacey’s forehead with a ling, white finger. 

“And that’s where…”

“Yeah, that’s where Voldermort tried to kill me. I think that my wand will be holly, phoenix feather, eleven inches.” Lacey said quickly. “It’s a concept that I’ve had for years.”

Ollivander looked curious, but retrieved the described wand. Lacey took it from its case and gave it a little wave. She felt her whole arm warm and a stream of blue and bronze sparks shot out of the end. Ollivander and Hagrid applauded Lacey, and Ollivander murmured, “Curious… curious…”

Lacey didn’t ask questions and paid and left. She and Hagrid left through the Leaky Cauldron, and entered Muggle London. 

Muggle London was an exciting experience. Lacey had started her adventure by getting her bangs trimmed and the rest of her hair cut to her chin. It poofed out and was still a little wild, but it was more manageable than the longer hair that she had had thanks to Aunt Petunia’s refusal to let Lacey cut her own hair. For heaven's sake, she had been attending beauty school in her last life, why couldn’t she cut her own hair!

After her haircut, Lacey got a handful of outfits, and then as many notebooks and mechanical pens as she could. You can never have too many pens. 

Hagrid left her on Privet Drive with a ticket for King’s Crossing.

  
  



	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lacey makes the journey to Hogwarts and is sorted.

Lacey spent the following month quietly in her new room, reading her school books and organising her plans for the coming years. Her cat, Aslan, was very sweet, and spent most afternoons laying in a patch of sunlight while Lacey cursed the fact that 10 Galleons was 4,930 Knuts. Aslan would go over to Mrs. Figg’s for meals, but always returned by the time Lacey went to bed.

At last, September first rolled around, and Lacey had everything packed. She said a quick goodbye to her relatives and stepped out the road. She held out her wand, and the Knight Bus _CRACKED_ into being before her. Lacey boarded the bus, and hoisted her trunk up behind herself. Lacey paid her bus fee to the driver and settled into her seat. There were a few others around her, all Hogwarts-age students with older siblings or parents. 

The bus filled quickly and Lacey wound up beside the window with an older girl beside her. The girl introduced herself as Penelope Clearwater, much to Lacey’s excitement, and Lacey spent the rest of the ride quizzing her on Ravenclaw House. Clearwater was glad to answer, and they struck up a tentative acquaintanceship. Lacey followed Clearwater through the barrier to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Clearwater had to go do prefect things, so Lacey hoisted her things onto the train and settled herself into a compartment. She pulled a book out of her bag and opened it up.

Lacey looked up when her compartment door slid open several minutes later. 

“Anyone sitting here?” he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Lacey. “Everywhere else is full.”

Lacey shook her head, internally baffled that Ron had managed to find her. He had a black, sooty-looking mark on his nose. 

“Hey, Ron.”

The Weasley twins stuck their heads in the compartment.

“Listen, we’re going down to the middle of the train -- Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.”

“Right,” mumbled Ron.

“Oh, uh, by the way,” the other twin turned to Lacey. “If he upsets you, go ahead and curse him. See you later, then.”

“Bye,” said Ron, and Lacey waved. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind themselves. 

“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron said, turning to shake Lacey’s hand. “They were my brothers, Fred and George.”

“I’m Lacey,” Lacey smiled and shook Ron’s hand. 

“Blimey, Lacey Potter?” Ron gasped. 

“Yeah,” Lacey replied. 

“Have you really got -- you know…”

He pointed at Lacey's forehead.

“Yes, again.” Lacey didn’t move her hair out of her face. “I don’t really remember much of it.”

“What _do_ you remember?”

“My mother pleading for her life and then a lot of green light.” Lacey frowned. “I hope that you don’t plan on asking every orphan at Hogwarts if they remember the very traumatic event of their parent’s murders.”  
“Er, no,” Ron looked suitably embarrassed, so Lacey let him off the hook. He was only eleven, after all.

“Good. Um, is everyone in your family a witch or a wizard?”

“Er -- yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

“Why not? Is he a Squib?” Lacey asked.

“No, he just doesn’t want to deal with wizard politics.”

“That sounds pretty fair,” Lacey grinned, “I’ve heard that wizard politics are awful, although, to be fair, all politics suck.”

Ron laughed. “You grew up with Muggles, right? What are they like?”

“Oh, mine were awful, but that’s just because they’re racist. Most Muggles are okay.” 

“Oh.” Ron looked uncomfortable.

“Have you got any siblings beyond your brothers?”

“Yeah. I’ve got five brothers and a sister. I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie already left -- Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand, and Percy’s old rat.” 

At this, Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. _Peter Pettigrew,_ Lacey thought.

“His name’s Scabbers and he’s useless, he hardly ever wakes up.” 

Lacey didn't laugh. That rat was the reason she was an orphan. 

She must have been staring, because Ron hurriedly stuffed his 'rat' back into his pocket and asked, "Have you got a pet?"

“This is Aslan,” she said, reaching under her seat to pull out her fat orange cat. “He’s only smart when it benefits him, which isn’t often, but I love him.” 

Ron set Pettigrew onto his lap and let Aslan sniff and then headbut his hand. “He’s a lot better-looking than Scabbers.” 

“Aslan was the first gift I ever got.” Lacey explained, much to Ron’s agreement. “Hagrid bought him in Diagon Alley. I think that he wanted to buy me an owl instead, but I kept talking about how much I liked cats.”

“Why wouldn’t you want an owl?” 

“My aunt and uncle wouldn’t be too fond of any pet that I bring home, but since Aslan goes to the neighbor’s house for food, they don’t mind too much. They don’t really like magic. In fact, I didn’t even know that I was a witch until Hagrid told me. I’m probably way behind in school stuff.”

“You won’t be. There’s loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quickly enough.” 

The train had left London while Lacey and Ron had been talking. Now they were speeding past fields of cows and sheep. They sat quietly for a time, Lacey staring at _A Standard Book of Spells: Grade One_ , not comprehending anything and trying to figure out how to get Pettigrew to reveal himself. 

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, “Anything off the cart, dears?” 

Lacey, who hadn’t had any breakfast leapt to her feet, but Ron’s ears went pink and he muttered that he’d brought a sandwich. Lacey went out into the corridor. 

Lacey selected Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, and Cauldron Cakes, and carried them back into the compartment to share with Ron and any lucky passers by. 

“Would you like any?” Lacey offered. “I’m afraid that I don’t know what’s good, so you’ll have to tell me.”

“Chocolate Frogs are pretty good, but the best part of them are the collectable cards. Let me know if you get Agrippa, would you? She's the only one I’m missing,” Ron explained. 

Lacey opened up her first card, and found Albus Dumbledore’s face staring up at her. He moved and Lacey was strongly reminded of watching a GIF in the twenty-first century. 

“It’s just Dumbledore,” Lacey sighed.

“Yeah, I’ve gotten loads of him. D’you mind if I have more? If I get any cards I’ve already got, you can have them.” 

Lacey agreed, and soon they found themselves surrounded by cards. Lacey stacked them up and wrapped one of the wrappers around them before moving on to Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. 

“You want to be careful with those,” Ron warned her. “When they say every flavor, they _mean_ every flavor -- you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George recons he had a booger-flavored one, once.” 

Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner. 

“Bleaaargh -- see? Sprouts.” 

They had a good time eating the Beans. Lacey got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, and sardine before she moved onto a Pumpkin Pastie. 

There was a knock on door of their compartment slid open and a boy stepped in. He had a round face and dark hair. 

“Have you seen a toad?” He asked. 

“No, I’m afraid not. Have you asked a prefect to summon it for you?” Lacey replied.

“No. I haven’t seen any,” he admitted.

“They do rounds,” Lacey said. “You can sit in here with us until we see one.”

“Thanks, but I’ll keep looking.” He said.

“Do you want help?” Lacey offered, standing up and gesturing for Ron to do the same.

He accepted and introduced himself. “I’m Neville Longbottom.”

“I’m Ron Weasley,” said Ron.

“Lacey Potter. Where all have you looked?” 

Neville gaped, then hurriedly said that he’d looked in the compartments to the immediate left of Lacey’s. 

“I’ll go left, you two go right?”

“Su-sure.”

Lacey and the boys split and ducked their heads into various compartments. 

Lacey was three compartments down when she found a girl with dark skin and a lot of dark brown hair. “Have you seen a toad?” Lacey asked. “My friend lost his.”

“No,” said the girl. “Do you want help looking?” 

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Lacey smiled. “Neville and Ron headed the other way. I’m trying to find a prefect to summon him for us.”

“Ooh, that’s a really good idea! I’m Hermione Granger, by the way,” the other girl said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hermione. I’m Lacey Potter.”

“Are you really?” said Hermione. “I know all about you, of course -- I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Darks Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_.”

“Really? I only barely got through my school books and one of my extra books. It’s so impressive that you made it so far!” Lacey exclaimed. 

Hermione flushed. “Do you know what House you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad.”

“I’m hoping for Ravenclaw. I’ve heard that it’s the most widely respected house -- there’s people who say that Ravenclaws are stuck up, but that’s the worst I’ve heard. There’s a lot of people who think that Hufflepuffs are lame and Gryffindors are conceited and Slytherins are evil -- I don’t think that any eleven-year-old could be evil, but that’s the stereotype.” 

Lacey slid open a compartment to see Penelope Clearwater speaking to another girl. They looked up when the door moved.

“Excuse me, but are either of you any good at the summoning charm?” Lacey asked.

“I can do it. Did you lose something?” Penelope said. 

“One of my friends lost his toad, Trevor.” 

“ _Accio Trevor the toadI!_ ” Trevor zoomed into Penelope’s hand, and then she gave the toad to Lacey. 

“Thanks!” Lacey and Hermione said. They closed the compartment door and headed back up the train. Lacey paused by Hermione’s compartment to let her change before continuing. 

Lacey slid her robe and tie on over top of the rest of her uniform, which she had already been wearing, when they passed Lacey and Ron’s compartment. The two girls and Trevor found Ron and Neville half a dozen cabins ahead. 

“Trevor!” Neville cried upon seeing his toad. 

“Ron, Neville, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Ron, and that’s Neville.” Lacey said. “Let’s go sit back down.”

The four of them returned to Lacey’s compartment. 

“What do your oldest brothers do, Ron?” Lacey asked.

“Charlie’s in Romania studying dragons, and Bill’s in Africa doing something for Gringotts,” said Ron. “Did you hear about Gringott? It’s been all over the _Daily Prophet_ , but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles -- someone tried to rob a high security vault.”

Lacey and Hermione stared.

“Well, what’s happened to them?” Hermione demanded. 

“Nothing that’s why it’s such big news. They haven’t been caught. My dad says it must’ve been a powerful Dark wizard to get around Gringotts, but they don’t think they took anything, that’s what’s odd. ‘Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who’s behind it.”

“My Gran thinks that someone just got lucky,” Neville said, still keeping a tight grip on his toad. “She’s sure that You-Know-Who’s gone for good.” 

Neville’s and Hermione’s eyes darted over to Lacey’s forehead. Lacey pondered the fact that if things went poorly, she would have to break into Gringotts herself in a matter of years. 

“What are your Quidditch teams?” Ron asked, glancing at the others.

“I don’t really have a preference. I’ve never seen a Quidditch match before.” Lacey said. 

Hermione and Neville said almost the same thing, much to Ron’s shock. 

“What Houses are you hoping for?” Hermione asked Ron and Neville. “I’d like to be in Gryffindor, myself, and Lacey said earlier that she wanted to be in Ravenclaw.”

“Gryffindor,” said Ron. “My whole family’s been Gryffindor for years.”

“I’ll probably be Hufflepuff,” Neville sighed. “My Gran wants me to be in Gryffindor, like my dad, but I’m practically a Squib. They all thought that I was one until my uncle dropped me out of a window and I bounced.”

“I’m sorry, your uncle did _what_?” Lacey gasped. She had known this, of course, but there was just something about hearing Neville say it out loud. “That’s awful!”

Neville and Ron simply shrugged. “It’s a way to test for whether or not someone’s got magic,” Ron said, as though it was the most common thing in the world.

Hermione exchanged a horrified look with Lacey. Before either of the girls could say anything, a voice echoed through the train. 

“We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”

Ron took his robes out and left with Neville to change. 

“How do you think the luggage gets up to the castle?” Lacey asked, turning to face Hermione, who had stayed sitting with her. 

“I’m not sure,” the other girl admitted. “It wasn’t in _Hogwarts: A History_ , but I suppose that we could ask a teacher.” 

“Did you read the book all the way through?” Lacey asked.

“I did! I wanted to know all about Hogwarts before I came here. Did you know that Hogwarts has anti-Appearition wards around it?”

“I think I might have heard that somewhere,” Lacy said. “Did you know that there are House-Elves at Hogwarts?” 

“What’s a House-Elf?” Hermoine asked.

“They’re these little creatures that cook and clean. I think that it has to do with the way that their magic works, that it might require them to work like that, but I’m not sure.” Lacey explained. “I know that they like working and that being fired is a huge shame or disgrace, but I’m not sure why.” 

“ _Hogwarts: A History_ never said anything about House-Elves,” Hermione said, evidently doubting Lacey. 

“Well, that’s because of the erasure of the ‘lower-class’ in all forms of history. People don't document what they don’t believe to be important.” Lacey said. “It happens everywhere.”

“How do you know about them, then?”

“... They were mentioned in a letter that my dad wrote. I found it in my vault. At Gringotts.” Lacey lied, rather roughly. 

Hermione stared at Lacey suspiciously, but before she could interrogate her further, the train stopped and they had to get off. 

People were pushing their way through the crowd, and Lacey got separated from Hermione. Lacey shivered in the cool air of the night. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Lacey heard a familiar voice: “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here! All right there, Lacey?”

Hagrid’s big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

“C’mon, follow me -- Any more firs’ years? Mind your step, now! Ford’ years follow me!” 

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down a steep path. It was so dark on either side of them that Lacey thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much, though Lacey caught murmurs of “Ew, it’s so wet,” and “Careful, Parvati, there’s a loose stone there.” Someone sniffled periodically and Lacey thanked whatever deity there was that she didn’t have seasonal allergies anymore. 

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.”

There was a loud “Oooooh!”

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. Nothing could have prepared Lacey for the magnificent view, but she didn’t have much time to admire it, because Hagrid was rattling off, “No more’n four to a boat!” 

He pointed to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Unable to spot any of her new friends, Lacey simply boarded a boat with three other girls. They smiled nervously at one another. 

“Everyone in?” shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. “Right then -- FORWARD!”

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. 

“Heads down!” yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto the rocks and pebbles. 

“Oy, you there! Is this your toad?” said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

“Trevor!” Lacey heard Neville cry from a way to her right.

Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrids lap, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. Lacey made a mental note of the location. 

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. 

“Everyone here? You there, still got your toad?”

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door. 

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Lacey’s first thought was that she was not someone to cross. Her second was that this had to be Professor McGonagall and that she looked scarcely younger than how she was portrayed in the movies. A color-change charm on her hair, maybe? 

“Firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid. 

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” 

She pulled the door open wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys; house in it. The stone ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase led to the upper floors. Lacey wondered if it would move in front of them. 

They followed Professor mcGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Lacey could hear voices to her right -- the rest of the school must already be there -- but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they usually would have done, peering about nervously. Lacey was still clumped together near the back with the girls that she had been on the boat with. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family here at Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend freetime in your House common room. 

“The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding wizards and witches. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” 

Her eyes lingered on a few students near the front. A whisper rose up among the other first years as they frantically flattened their hair or straightened collars. 

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said Professor McGonagall, “Please wait quietly.”

She left the chamber. Lacey turned to face the other girls, who had been joined by even more girls. 

“How do they sort us?” one asked, a pale boy with blond hair. “My parents wouldn’t tell me.”

“I’m not sure,” admitted one of the girls from the boat. “No one told me either.”

“I don’t think it’s fatal,” another girl said. “There haven’t been any reports of ‘death by sorting,’ so I think we’ll be okay for a little while.”

“Lily,” the first boat girl, who had blonde hair and a round face, began, “the body count at Hogwarts hasn’t grown in three years, and that one was a freak accident at fault from a Ministry official. We probably won’t die.”

“Does this come up a lot?” Lacey asked.

“Yeah. I’m Susan Bones, this is Lily Moon. She’s convinced that something awful will happen and she’s trying to find out when,” the blond girl said. 

Before Lacey could reply, someone screamed, and ghosts came floating through the wall. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: “Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance --”

“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost -- I say, what are you all doing here?” 

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. 

Nobody answered. 

“New students!” said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. “About to be Sorted, I suppose?”

A few people nodded mutely. 

“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” said the Friar. “My old House, you know.”  
“Move along now,” said a sharp voice. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.”

Professor Mcgonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away though the opposite wall. 

“Now form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “and follow me.”

Feeling the adrenaline rush to her brain, Lacey moved to stand between Lily and the blond boy. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Lacey felt as though she would always be underestimating the majesty of the castle, because yet again, she was stunned by its beauty. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candle light. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Lacey looked upward and beheld the velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. 

If Lacey hadn’t already known that it was bewitched, she’d have thought that there was no ceiling at all. 

Lacey looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the Stool she put a wizard's hat. The hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn’t have let it into her house. 

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. The the hat twitched, A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth -- and the hat began to sing: 

_"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your_ _bowlers_ _black,_

 _Your_ _top hats_ _sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in_ _Gryffindor_ _,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in_ _Hufflepuff_ _,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old_ _Ravenclaw_ _,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in_ _Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. 

“We just have to try on the hat?” Lily whispered. 

Professor McGonagal now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. 

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!” 

A girl with blonde pigtails in a few people ahead of Lacey stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment’s pause --

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat. 

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Lacey saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waing merily at Hannah as Lacey clapped. 

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah. 

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

The second table from the left clapped loudest this time; several Ravenclaws stood to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. 

“Brocklehurst, Mandy” went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Lacey spotted who she thought were Fred and George catcalling. 

“Bulstrode, Millicent” became a Slytherin, and the table between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff erupted into cheering. 

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” 

“Finnigan, Seamus” was Gryffindor, and right after him, Hermione followed. 

“Li, Sue” whose name Lacey was unfamiliar with, went to Ravenclaw, Neville went to Gryffindor, “McDougal, Morag” to Slytherin, and Malfoy to Slytherin. Lily, “Nott, Theodore” and “Parkinson, Pansy” went to Slytherin as well. The Patil twins went to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and “Perks, Sally-Anne” followed Parvati to Gryffindor. At last --

“Potter, Lacey!”

As Lacey stepped forward, whispers broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. 

“ _Potter_ , did she say?”

“ _The_ Lacey Potter?”

The last thing Lacey saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall craning to get a good look at her. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She began mantally chanting, _Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw._

“Hmm,” said a small voice in her ear, startling her from her chant. “You really want Ravenclaw, don’t you?”

 _Yes. Obviously. It’s the perfect House. I can compose an essay as to why,_ Lacey thought wryly.

“That won’t be necessary.” The hat sounded amused. “If you’re so sure, then, RAVENCLAW!”

Lacey pulled the hat off of her head, beaming. The Ravenclaw table had burst into massive cheers, the loudest of the evening, and Lacey saw her various acquaintances clapping as well. Lacey sandwiched herself between Penelope Clearwater and Padma Patil, across from Sue Li, Terry Boot, and Mandy Brocklehurst. Lacey took a good look at the teacher’s table where Dumbledore appeared to be frowning, though it was hard to tell from this distance. 

Now only four people were left to be sorted. “Thomas, Dean” went to Gryffindor, “Turpin, Lisa” to Ravenclaw, Ron to Gryffindor, and “Zambini, Blaise” to Slytherin. Lisa Turin settled on the other side of Padma, and Lacey heard Percy Weasley praising Ron for Gryffindor behind her. Across from her, Blaise sat next to who Lacey thought was Daphne Greengrass, but she hadn’t gotten a good look at the other girl earlier.

Lacey looked down at her plate, her stomach rumbling, feeling as though the candy and sweets she had eaten on the train had been a century ago. 

Albus Dumbledore got to his feet. “Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

“Thank you!” 

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. 

“Is he mad?” asked Lisa Turpin.

“Oh, absolutely. He’s brilliant, but he’s certainly mad.” Penelope said. “Rolls, anyone?”

On the table before them, food had appeared. Everyone was digging in, heaping food onto their plates, and Lacey and the other first years followed suit. The current focus was on food, though behind her, Lacey could tell that wasn’t the case at the Gryffindor table as Seamus Finnigan said, “How can you be _nearly_ headless?” and then a round of gasps broke out. That seemed to loosen some tongues.

As the other first years began bombarding Penelope with questions about various rumors that they’d heard, Lacey continued to eat, though she listened to the interrogation. 

“Can anyone enter another House’s common room?”

“Will I lose points for turning in assignments on paper?”  
“Can we eat at other tables?”

The answers varied. “Only if you don’t get caught, no, if it’s not a proper feast,” and on and on until Penelope excused herself to sit with the other prefects. 

By this point, pudding had appeared, and the face-stuffing had slowed. 

“So, uh, Lacey,” Lisa began. “Why’d everyone get so excited that you were here?”

Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein, who Lacey hadn’t seen earlier, stared at Lisa. 

“I’m kinda famous, I suppose,” Lacey explained. “Wizard Hitler couldn’t kill me when I was a baby -- nobody really knows why -- and the killing curse allegedly rebounded and hit him.”

“There was a wizard Hitler? Does that mean that there are wizard natzis?” Lisa asked. 

“Yeah, only they’re called Death Eaters, and wizard Hitler is called ‘You-Know-Who.’” Lacey explained. “Oh, and they were English, mostly. And the war was almost exclusively in England.”

“Do you think that we’ll learn about it in History of Magic?” Lisa asked. 

“Maybe, but I’ve heard that the professor for that class is really boring,” Lacey sighed. 

Padma cleared her throat. “It’s not in any of the books. I skimmed the chapters, and they’re mostly about the Goblin wars.”

“So then maybe another year we’ll learn about it?” Lisa didn’t sound hopeful.

“Nah,” a girl who wasn’t in their year said. “All Binns talks about is the Goblin wars. Most of the people who want to do well in their O.W.L.s do a self-study course.”

“What are O.W.L.s?” Lisa asked.

“Ordinary Wizarding Levels,” Micheal Corner said. “They’re the exams you take in fifth year. How come you don’t know this stuff?”

“I’m muggleborn,” Lisa said. “I didn’t know I was a witch until I got my letter.”

“I’m Pureblood,” said Terry. “So’s Anthony, and Padma, too, right?”

Padma nodded. 

“I’m Half-blood,” said Micheal.

“Me too,” said Lacey. 

“I thought that the Potters were Pureblooded,” Anthony said.

“My mum was muggleborn.”

The desserts disappeared after a little while more, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet. The hall fell silent. 

“Ahe, -- just a few more words now that we are fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. 

Dumbledore glanced towards the Weasley twins. 

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. 

“Quidditch trials will be held the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their teams should contact Madam Hooch. 

“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a painful death.” 

Lacey stifled a laugh. _Stupid Gen Z humor,_ she thought. 

“Is he serious?” Mandy asked the second-year sitting next to her.

The girl shrugged in response. 

“And now, before bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. The other teachers looked slightly pained. Lacey could relate.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelink, into words.

“Everyone pick their favorite tune, '' said Dumbledore, “and off we go!”

And the school bellowed:

_“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald,_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling,_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot.”_

Everybody finished the song at different times. 

At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they finished. He was one of those who clapped loudest.

“Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime! Off you trot!” 

The ravenclaw first years followed Penelope, who had reappeared, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. Following Penelope through the school was confusing. Lacey endeavored to remember various landmarks, but she figured that she would just follow other students to their classes. 

The walk up to Ravenclaw tower was uneventful, thankfully. Lacey was almost dead on her feet by the time that they reached the eagle-shaped knocker. Penelope knocked, and it came alive, much to Lisa’s surprise. Lacey felt a little bad for the only muggleborn in her year and House. 

“What has to be broken before you can use it?” the knocker asked. 

Penelope looked at them expectantly.

“What?” Micheal asked. “Do we have to solve it?”

“Is this like some kind of initiation?” asked Padma, looking annoyed. 

“You have to solve a riddle to get into the tower. Anyone who’s with you can go in too, but the riddle must be solved.” the boy prefect next to Penelope explained. “Give it your best shot.”

The first years stood and stared at each other, contemplating, until Anthony exclaimed, “An egg! You have to break the shell of an egg to use its contents!”

The eagle knocker apparently agreed, because the door swung open to reveal a narrow, spiraling staircase. They trudged up it and then were directed to their dormitories. 

Five four-poster beds were up against the walls, and Lacey found Aslan comfortably situated on one. Lisa took the bed left of Lacey’s, and the other girls took the remaining three to Lacey’s right. 

Too tired to say much at all, the girls put on pajamas and crawled into bed. 

Unfortunately, the new bed didn’t do much for Lacey, because she had another dream filled with high laughter, screaming, and green light that had her shooting up covered in sweat. 

She rolled over and went to sleep again, but her dream stayed with her for the rest of the following day. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter took a long time to write and is two chapters of the original book that I had open in a pdf while I wrote for accuracy. Also, some characters are only mentioned once or never mentioned at all and only exist in a list that JK Rowling (the monster) had. Additionally, I Sorted some characters who are never canonically Sorted and who I could never find a House for. 
> 
> But anyway! Lacey's in Ravenclaw, because she is and that's what suits her best. I forgot about Aslan until I had written the end of this (because I wrote this over the course of several days). But this is fun! Lacey and Hermione are going to reshape wizarding abuse laws if it kills them, because throwing children out of windows is never okay, no matter the reason. I already have a relationship in mind for Lacey, but if you want to see something for anyone else, let me know!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lacey has her first Potions and Flying classes and further establishes friendships.

“There, look.” 

“Where?”

“The one with black hair.”

“Wearing the glasses.”

“Did you see her face?”  
“Did you see her scar?”

Whispers followed Lacey from the moment she left her dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her, or doubled back in the corridors again, staring. Lacey wished they wouldn’t, because she was trying to concentrate on finding her way to classes. 

There really were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts, and Peeves was even worse than Lacey had anticipated. The day after her sorting, Cho Chang approached her and the other first year Ravenclaws to warn them. 

“You really need to leave breakfast sooner than you think,” she had said quickly. “It took me months to figure out which staircases have trick steps and which ones move where. And try to stick together, too. You won’t lose points if you’re all late together. That’s how the teachers know that you’re really lost.”

Cho had left shortly after, following a few other Ravenclaws. 

The Ravenclaw first years had followed Cho’s advice. Unfortunately, Filch was also as awful as he was in the canon, but he didn’t care if people moved in packs. He would threaten to literally hang them by their toes, which Lisa said might be a war crime. She then had to explain to those who hadn’t grown up with Muggles what war crimes are. 

Once Lacey and her friends had gotten to classes, the classes themselves were more difficult than Lacey had thought they would be, but that just made her more glad that she had pre-read her books. Apparently, though, so had most of the other Ravenclaws, so their first classes, which were supposed to be like a ‘go over the syllabus’ type class, were more of a ‘if we finish our work early, can we have a pizza party for the last several weeks of class?’ type of class. 

Lacey’s prediction about Binns was correct. He was so bland that Micheal literally fell asleep within five minutes. Lacey and the other girls fought to keep their giggles to a minimum, but they did collectively go to Professor Flitwick to request a group self-study instead of getting a free nap period. 

Herbology was with the Slytherins. Malfoy had strolled up to Lacey and her friends before the class began while they stood outside of the greenhouses. 

“I see that you’re not in Slytherin,” he said, not bothering to greet her.

“I-- yeah? I mean, you’re right, I’m not,” Lacey said. “I’m pretty sure that I told you that I wanted to be in Ravenclaw.”

Lily Moon walked over. “Hi, Lacey. We met before the sorting, remember? I was with Susan Bones.”

“I do! It’s Lily, right?” Lacey smiled, glad to look away from Malfoy. “You think that something awful going to happen, right?”

“Yeah, my granddad had some vision that this year wouldn’t go well, but my sister said that something bad happens every year,” Lily explained. “You know, ‘cause there was the whole cursed vault mystery a few years back.” 

“What.” Lisa said, looking as though she was growing more and more regretful that she had come to Hogwarts. 

“Yeah, but that got solved by that amature curse-breaker looking for her brother -- it was a weird thing. Nobody knows what ended up happening, she never told, but, you know.”

Lisa looked pained. Before Lily could continue, however, Professor Sprout herded them into the greenhouse. 

At breakfast, Lacey sat in her new usual spot beside Lisa and across from Mandy and Terry. 

“What have we got today?” Lisa asked, buttering her toast. “It’s double something, with Hufflepuff, right?”

“Double potions,” said Sue. “I hear he’s awful. Cho -- you all remember her. She told us to travel in packs -- said that he favors the Slytherins a ton. We can ask the Gryffindors later.” 

When the owls flew overhead, one unfamiliar owl dropped in front of Lacey. She read the note (from Hagrid) and looked up. “Do any of you want to go down to the groundskeeper’s cottage after potions?” 

“I’ll go,” said Lisa

That afternoon, Lacey and the others made their way down to the dungeons. A few Hufflepuffs, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones, were yawning outside the entrance. Lacey introduced herself to them, and Susan eagerly reciprocated. 

After the rest of the Hufflepuff had gathered, Professor Snape came sweeping through the crowd of first years to open the door. The students filed in silently and took their seats. Snape began the role call. 

When he reached Lacey’s name, he paused. 

“Ah, yes,” he said, sneering. “Lacey Potter, Our new -- _celebrity_.” 

Lacey raised her hand and said “Here.”

Lisa, who had a similar sense of humor to Lacey’s own, sniggered. Snape finished roll with a scowl and looked up at the class. His eyes were eerily dark.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he began, his voice so soft that Lacey could scarcely hear him. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here many of you will hardly believe this is magic.” he continued speaking but Lacey pulled out her note-taking thing, (a pen and a spiral-bound notebook labeled ‘Potions: Sept. 1991- ) and tuned him out slightly. She noticed him calling them ‘dunderheads,’ though, and took note of that. Maybe she could get him fired? 

“Potter!” said Snape. Lacey was ready. She had read her books, she had examined every potions combination they held, she was ready. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

 _What? That wasn’t in the book, but…_ “Um, I don’t think that there are any potions that only require those two ingredients, but those two together would make some kind of sleeping potion, maybe? I’m sorry, I don't think that I read about that.” Lacey said, stalling. Then it hit her. “Oh! That the Drought of Living death, right? It’s a more advanced potion than one would find in a _first-year book_ , but I heard someone talking about it.” 

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer. “Can you answer this as well, Potter, or did you get lucky? Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

“Bezoars are stonelike masses naturally found in the stomach of a goat, but an easier and less messy place to find one would be an apothecary or any place that makes edible potions in case of emergencies,” Lacey recited. “They are cures to most poisons and can be used in potion-making.”

Snape looked even more displeased. “What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane, Potter?”

“They’re the same plant, and are also referred to as aconite.” Lacey said, hoping that that would be the last question. 

“Correct on all accounts. Why aren’t you all taking notes?” Snape hissed. “And a point from Ravenclaw for rambling, Potter.” 

The outrage was felt by everyone in the room. Lacey made another note about Snape’s behavior. 

He split them into pairs after that, and things didn’t go as poorly as they must have for Gryffindor that morning, because no more points were lost, but none were gained either. That was incredibly disappointing, because ravenclaw had grown used to gaining points for good answers or work in all of their other classes.

After class, Lacey and Lisa trudged out to Hagrid’s hut. Lacey knocked, and then a series of loud barks and frantic scrabbling came from inside. Then Hagrid’s voice rang out, saying, “ _Back,_ Fang, _back_.”

Hagrid’s big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

“Hang on,” he said. “ _Back_ , Fang.” 

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. 

“Make yerselves at home,” said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded over to the girls. 

“This is Lisa. She’s one of my roommates,” Lacey told Hagrid. 

“It’s nice teh meet yeh,” Hagrid said. “Tell me about yer week.”

Lacey and Lisa began regaling Hagrid with their first week of classes. He seemed concerned that Lacey had befriended a Slytherin in Lily Moon, but he didn’t say anything. Tea was quieter than Lacey had expected, but as the girls left, she saw Hagrid’s chicken coop, and a plan began in the back of her mind. 

When they returned to the castle, Lacey found Ron and Neville waiting for her. 

“What were you doing outside?” Ron asked. 

“Visiting with Hagrid. He invited me to tea,” Lacey explained. 

“Oh. Well, someone broke into Gringotts on your birthday. D’you know anything about that?” 

“Oh, obviously. It happened on my birthday, so of course I do. Professor Quirrell was there that day, it was probably him who broke in,” Lacey said snarkily. “No, I don’t know what happened. Professor Quirrell was there and Hagrid emptied a vault that day, but that’s all I know.”

Ron and Neville stared. “Who else did you see there?”

“Uh, Draco Malfoy was there, but he’s eleven and doesn’t know how to break into the most well-guarded place in the world,” Lacey said “I really don’t know any more than that, sorry.”

“Are you two trying to be, like, the Boxcar Children?” Lisa asked, amused. 

“The what?” Neville asked.

“The Boxcar Children. They’re, like, amature detectives,” Lisa explained. “Oh! If we get to help, can we be, like the Scooby Doo gang?” 

Lacey laughed, and Ron scowled. 

“This isn’t a joke! I was really trying to find out.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lisa said. “I just thought that you’d be amused.”

Ron’s ears flushed. “Who are you, anyway?” he demanded.

“I’m Lisa Turpin. I’m Muggleborn.”

“Oh. I’m Ron Weasley, I’m a Pureblood. And this is Neville.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Lisa said. “D’you want to study together?” 

“What for?” Ron looked bewildered. “There aren’t any tests this week!”

“Yeah, but if you’re ahead on studying then that’s less cramming to do before a test. Or we could just do homework, if that’s better.”

Homework turned out to be the kicker, so the four of them went to the library to write their essays. 

Homework with Ron and Neville became a biweekly occasion. Eventually, Lisa told them about their first potions lesson, and in turn, they told the girls about how in their first lesson, Neville managed to melt Seamus Finnagin’s cauldron. 

How on earth do you manage that?” Lacey asked, as quietly as she could. 

“I don’t know,” said Neville miserably. “Seamus’ll never want to work with me again.”

“Eh, you’ll be fine,” Lacey said. “Potions is kinda like chemistry, and people get paid to do that and make explosions. Besides, maybe you'll find a combination that nobody knows about and be known for that.”

“I would hate to be known for something to do with potions.”

As a result of Snape constantly trying to humiliate Lacey and phycologically torture Neville, Potions was what the group studied the most, though both boys were curious as to how a self-study would work. 

“Basically, we review the textbooks and if we feel like they’re lacking in areas, we look up valid sources for supplementary reading, like instead of spending five years on the goblin wars, we read about that caused the Statute of Secrecy to be put in place or the spread of wizards across the world and how that parallel Muggle expansion,” Lisa explained. “It’s a lot of work, but almost everyone in Ravenclaw has done a self-study of the History of Magic, so we can compare notes and explain different events that are important all across the board.”

Lacey was glad that she didn’t have to deal with Malfoy very much -- the only class they shared was Herbology, and then Lacey worked with the other Ravenclaws and with Lily Moon. 

Unfortunately, Flying lessons were with Slytherins for some reason, so Malfoy was going to be there.

The day finally came, and all of the first years trudged out onto the training field. Lacey and Lisa were the only two in Ravenclaw who had never ridden a broom before, though there were probably others outside of their House who were in the same position. 

The Slytherins were already on the field when Lacey got there, and Malfoy strolled over to her. 

“So, Potter,” Malfoy began pompously. “I hear you’ve never ridden a broom before.”

“How would you know that? Are you spying on me?” Lacey asked, suspicious. 

“I heard you telling Moon about it.”

“So you were eavesdropping. Not much better.”

Lily moved in between Malfoy and Lacey. “Bugger off, Malfoy. We don’t want you here.”

Malfoy sneered, but he moved away as Madam Hooch approached. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she barked. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”

The students hurried over to the brooms that were lying in straight lines. Lacey ended up between Lily and Daphne Greengrass, opposite Lisa. They exchanged tight grins. 

“Stick your dominant hand over your broom,” called Madam Hooch at the front, “and say ‘Up!’”

“UP!” everyone shouted. 

Lacey’s broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few did. Lisa’s barely moved, and Lily’s made it halfway to her hand before falling back to the ground. 

Madam Hooch then showed then how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Lisa and Lacey grinned when she told Malfoy he’d been doing it wrong for years. Lacey, on the other hand, apparently had a naturally good grip on her broom, and Malfoy glared maliciously at her for it. 

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” said Madam Hooch.

As soon as she blew the whistle, most of the class rose a few inches above the ground. Malfoy, probably trying to make up for having an inferior grip or something, shot higher than the others, and veered over to where Lacey was. The brooms weren’t as good as what his were at home, though, and he reached out to try to steady himself and sent Lacey’s glasses flying. 

Suddenly mostly blind, Lacey swerved away from Malfoy. She stretched out her hand, and, making a wild guess based on the direction that they flew in, miraculously caught her glasses.

Someone gasped, and then Madam Hooch was ordering them all to the ground. 

“Miss Potter, Mr. Malfoy, are you two both alright?” she demanded storming over. 

“Yes,” said Malfoy sulkily. 

“Yes, ma’am,” said Lacey, putting her glasses back on. 

“Well, then! Mr. Malfoy, you’ll sit out the rest of this period. Don’t be so sure that you brooms will always fly the same.”

The class resumed as normal, and there were no injuries. Flying was wonderful. Lacey had never experienced anything like it, and she didn’t ever want to land. 

At the end of the class, after Madam Hooch had dismissed them, Lily approached Lacey. 

“Are you alright? It looked like Malfoy had it out for you.”

“I’m fine, thanks, Lily,” Lacey smiled. “It wasn’t really any trouble, and he couldn’t try to harass me again after that.” 

“Good. Say, do you mind if I sit with you at dinner? I don’t want to deal with Malfoy trying to get details about you from me again,” Lily said. 

“He’s what?” said Micheal, alarmed. 

“He keeps asking about you. Stuff like, I dunno, whether you know wizarding stuff, I guess. Where you hang out. Nobody knows that one, by the way. You’re safe on that account.”

“Oh. Well, thanks for the heads up. And yeah, you’re always welcome to eat with me, we’re friends,” Lacey said. 

The group went up to the castle together, where Malfoy and Ron were arguing. It looked like Malfoy was holding a little crystal ball. He held it out of Ron and Nevilles reach, periodically tossing and catching it.  
“Clearly Longbottom’s too stupid to --”

Lacey reached out and smoothly grabbed the ball out of the air. 

“Is this yours, Neville?” she asked, though she knew the answer. It was Neville’s Rememrall. 

“Yeah, it is. Thanks, Lacey,” Neville said, accepting it from her. 

“Tch, figures it’d take a _girl_ to get it back for you,” sneered Malfoy. 

“I mean, by that logic, you were bested by a girl,” said Lacey lightly. 

Malfoy turned red, and spun to face Lacey. “That’s-I let you! I’ll show you -- at midnight. Tonight. A Wizard’s duel.” 

“No, thanks, sorry,” said Lacey mildly. “I’ve no need to prove myself. And I have plans then, you know, it’d be rude to cancel so late.”

“What,” hissed Malfoy, as Lisa giggled. “How dare you! Have you no honor?”

“Not really, no.” Lisa was laughing wholeheartedly, and Lily was laughing as well.

Malfoy, apparently at a loss for words, stormed off. 

Hermione approached Lacey then, coming from the direction of the Library. “That was really brilliant, Lacey. I can’t believe that you managed to get him to leave you alone. He’s been mocking through all of Potions.” 

“That’s awful!” gasped Lisa, her laughter gone. “Have you said anything to your Prefect?” 

“No,” said Hermione, and she looked slightly embarrassed. “I’ve been working on homework whenever I’m not in class.”

Lisa insisted that Hermione tell a Prefect, and then join Lisa, Lacey, and Lily at the Ravenclaw table for dinner.  
School continued as normal after that, with the additions of Hermione joining the study group and Susan Bones and Lily had invited Lacey, Lisa, and Micheal to a study group of their own. 

The days grew shorter and Lacey found herself missing electric lighting as she had to work by the candlelight. Lisa was in vehement agreement. 

“I can’t believe that we can’t even use electric lanterns, like when you go camping! I can barely see with these, and the candles keep having to be replaced, and -- ugh, I just hate it,” she would complain. 

Homework was simple, mostly just writing essays a foot long, which translated to roughly a page and a half of lined paper. Adjusting to Wizard homework was peculiar. There were various spellings in the textbooks, like they’d been written without spelling rules. Lacey had asked several upperclassmen about it, and they’d all said that was common in textbooks, and Cho Chang had lent her a little book titled _Common Spellings for Wizarding Words_ that had saved Lacey’s homework dozens of times. 

Lunch with classmates outside of Ravenclaw had become a common thing for Lacey. They would all pile up at the Gryffindor table and Ron had ended up banning classwork as a conversation piece because that was all Hermione and Lisa would discuss, so instead they would talk about Quidditch teams and when the school matches were. They’d talk about the school gossip and where the trick staircases were. One lunch meal, Micheal Corner had invited the group to explore the castle with him the weekend before Halloween. Everyone had accepted except Lacey and Lily, the latter of whom saying that she had plans with a roommate. 

Lacey, who had already scoped out the castle in her spare time, declined. The opportunity was too good to pass up. Lacey was going to take that time to kill the Basilisk.

**Era:** _book 1_. 

**General idea:** _Lily Moon, Daphne Greengrass, and Blaise Zambini watch Lacey disappear to kill the Basilisk_

Lily stood beside Daphne as they waited for Blaise to be done in the bathroom. Curse him and his morning showers. As the pair of girls talked about Bulstrode’s snoring problem, a familiar figure came walking down the hall carrying something odd. 

Lacey Potter had a very still rooster in one hand and a broom in the other. How she’d gotten her hands on a broom, Lily had no idea, but Lacey had one and was walking very purposefully down the hall. She turned sharply into the girl’s bathroom -- Myrtle’s bathroom. She didn’t appear to have seen Lily or Daphne.

“What was that about?” asked Daphne. 

“Why did she have a broom and a rooster? What could she possibly be doing?” asked Lily. 

Blaise stepped out of the boy’s bathroom, his hair still dripping. “What’re you two looking at?” 

“Potter just went into Myrtle's bathroom. With a broom and a chicken.” Daphne said, still looking bewildered. Lily knew that if it were any later in the day, Daphne would have better control over her expressions. 

“Why?” Blasie asked, just as confused.

“I’m going to ask her,” Lily said, moving towards the bathroom. She’d never been inside of Myrtle’s bathroom before. All of the upper-year girls said that it wasn’t worth going to, on account of Myrtle’s constant sobbing and the flooding that accompanied it. 

Inside of the bathroom, there were no windows big enough to fit a person through, even one as scrawny as Lacey. Myrtle wasn’t there either. 

“Lacey?” Lily called out. No one replied. Lily looked in the stalls, all of which were open. No one there. 

“What’s taking so long?” asked Daphne, stepping into the bathroom. 

“Lacey’s not here. I can’t figure out how she left without us seeing,” Lily said, puzzled. 

The girls left the bathroom. 

“Well?” said Blaise. 

“She wasn’t there.”

“Did she go through a window?” 

“No. They’re too small,”

“Should we wait here for her?” asked Lily. 

“I suppose so,” said Blaise.

The three Slytherins stood waiting for forty-five minutes before Lacey reemerged. She froze upon seeing them, like a startled animal. 

“... I can explain, but I have to put this stuff back,” she said, gesturing to her rooster and broom. 

“We’ll go with you,” Lily offered, suspicious. 

“Or we could split up and one group takes the rooster to Hagrid’s garden while I put this--” she held up the broom “--back?” 

“Where’d you even get that broom?” Blaise asked. “First years aren’t allowed their own brooms here.”

“I can answer that or I can answer your other questions,” Lacey said. “One or the other.”

“Both. Or we tell Snape and Flitwick about you stealing a broom.” Daphne threatened. She’d crossed her arms and her expression didn’t change. 

“Fine.” Lacey set the rooster on the ground and undid what was likely a body-bind. “Now there’s a rooster loose in the castle. That should distract Filch for a while. Follow me.” 

Lacey began walking swiftly up the stairs, cutting though passages that Lily didn’t know existed, and finally reaching the seventh floor. 

They walked past a tapestry of someone called Barnabas the Barmy and a door appeared. 

“That wasn’t there a minute ago,” Blasie commented, alarmed. 

Lacey opened the door to reveal a room full of heaps of objects. She threw the broom onto a pile of other brooms and made her way to the top of a pile of junk to where a tiara sat on top of a bust of some ugly person. “Close the door,” Lacey called, reaching into her bag and procuring a wrapped fang of some sort. She slid on her gloves, unwrapped the fang, and stabbed the tiara. 

A loud screaming-moaning noise erupted from the tiara thing, and a blast of magic swept all of them off their feet.

“What the _hell_ was that?” Daphne gasped, pulling herself up. 

“Ravenclaw’s Diadem.” Lacey wrapped up the fang again and tucked it back into her bag. 

“ _What_?” exclaimed Blaise. “That’s supposed to give the wearer unlimited wisdom! Why would you destroy it?”

“It had a chunk of Voldermort’s soul in it. It wouldn't benefit anyone.”

The three Slytherins gasped again. 

“You said You-Know-Who’s name,” Lily said.

“I said his made-up name. His real name’s Tom Marvolo Riddle. His father was a Muggle, if you can believe it. His mother was a Squib. Do what you will with that information.”

“You’re lying.” Lily wasn’t sure who said that. Daphne and Blaise sounded the same when they were … frightened, for lack of better word. 

“I’m not. Look him up. He’s got a trophy in the trophy room. Myrtle can tell you that he used the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets to kill her. If you ask enough people they’ll slip up eventually.” Lacey let out a hysterical laugh. “Fun fact: If you rearrange the letters in his proper name, it’ll spell out ‘I am Lord Voldermort.’”

“Are you okay, Lacey?” Lily asked softly. 

“I think I’m having an emotional breakdown, but it's fine.” Lacey said. “I’d like to go to bed, but I still haven’t told you why I was in Myrtle’s bathroom.” She took a deep breath. “I have-- sort of premonitions, sometimes. Except they’re about the past? It’s weird. But I Saw Myrtle’s death. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is in her bathroom. I had to use a rooster to kill the Basilisk and the broom was to get out. Oh, and the entrance is only accessible via Parseltongue. Which I can speak. I’m not sure why.” 

“Really, Potter, what the hell. Why does that make sense?” Daphne asked. 

“It’s true! It’s mostly about Voldermort. I think part of his soul was split from the rest when he killed my parents and latched onto me. The diadem was something called a Horcrux. It’s really Dark magic. Like, really Dark. He didn’t want to die, so he split his soul.”

“How long have you been having these… visions?” Blaise asked. 

“Sense I got here. They’re like nightmares, I guess. I mean, I’ve always had nightmares about my parents’ deaths, but… I don’t know. It's fine though, don't worry about it. I can handle it.”

“Potter… Lacey, you need to tell an adult. It’s not healthy to keep this up.” Daphne seemed softer, more gentle. “I’ll go with you, if you want. But you need to talk to someone. Your guardians or your Head of House.”

“Okay.” Lacey shrank in on herself. Daphne and Blaise helped her down from the hill of garbage. 

“How does this place work?” Lily said, trying to divert Lacey’s attention.

“It’s the Room of Requirement. If you focus hard on what you want-slash-need when you walk past the wall, it’ll open up.” 

Lily smiled at Lacey, and Lacey returned it weakly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Snape. I had fun writing this section, and worked with what I remembered myself for the most par, but I looked up more details.  
> Flying class features the start of Malfoy's unending hatred of Lacey, who looks to him like she's effortlessly good at everything. He also hates her because when he wrote home, his mother mentioned that because Sirius was the sole inheritor of the Black fortune, Lacey would get that next as his godchild, and not Draco as the next male Black.  
> We got an alternative perspective! It was supposed to be a fun little three-paragraph section about how weird Lacey was to an outside person, and it turned into this. I'll write something from Daphne's perspective that might make her actions her make a little more sense, but because we barely see he in the books, I feel like I can be looser with my interpretation of her.  
> Lacey really wants a quiet year at school, so she's completely removed anything that might get in the way of her having a peaceful second year.  
> As most of us know, the crowing of a rooster is fatal to a Basilisk, so that's why Lacey had that.   
> The emotional breakdown happening now is a result of Lacey having had a really rough childhood with no support from anyone at all, ever. Also, she feels really bad about lying to Daphne, Lily, and Blaise, but there was no other way for her to get around explaining how she knew about the Horcruxes.   
> The coming chapters will have more alternate perspectives, because those are fun.
> 
> Also,  
> Lacey: Oh, it probably the Horcurx, that's why I'm upset, definitely not the fact that I haven't used my emotions in about a decade so it's exhausting to be this emotionally open with my friends and also I'm touch starved and also I still haven't figured out how to get rid of the other Horcruxes and all of my new friends could suffer and die if I don't
> 
> Thanks again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this is my first fanfic in the Harry Potter fandom that I've actually published! A lot of the book is taken almost exactly from the books. If you see anything that might need editing, please tell me! I don't have a beta and I've never proof-read anything in my life. Thank you for reading this!


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